


Roses for the Empress

by betweenheroesandvillains



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anniversaries, Emperor Hux, Empress Rey, F/M, Gardens & Gardening, Political Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenheroesandvillains/pseuds/betweenheroesandvillains
Summary: It had been Phasma who had brought up flowers. It had been Phasma, too, who had brought up privacy. What had been made of it had been his own idea entirely, though.





	Roses for the Empress

Hux had not moved in hours. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back as he watched the colours of the sky change from dark blue to the lighter purple and yellow tinges of the early morning. He had dismissed five calls, three diplomats and several servants that had tried to take care of him. Phasma had sent them, he knew, worrying about him in her quiet manner when he had dismissed even her. The first of the three suns was touching the horizon, tingeing the palace golden.  
Far underneath, in the streets of the city, the first fireworks sparked silver and red. Hopefully, he thought, soon to be mixed with blue and green. Otherwise, he would have to arrange that.  
It would be a lie to say that the thought did not excite him. By nightfall, the whole palace would be surrounded by sparks not unlike stars, mingling. The greatest part of the known universe would be in a festive mood, billions trying to congratulate him. Them.  
His fingertips tingled, tapped a harsh rhythm against his palm. Them, he thought again, and felt his excitement as well as him impatience grow.

The hour was too early. She would not be awake yet, and even if she were, she had always displayed a habit of staying in her rooms for as long as possible. Hux understood that it had to do with the circumstances that had brought her the title of Empress. One could easily argue that it was his fault, and thus his duty to ease her into this new life. He had done his best, had given into most of her demands, had allowed her weeks and months to find her way. Had not once even thought about toeing the clear line she had drawn.  
Once she had started participating in his councils, he had realized that he could put her in all the prettiest dresses, have her follow all the court rules, but it would never erase the fact that she was Leia Organa's child and a survivalist. She had turned out to be sharper, cleverer and more ruthless than any of his Grand Admirals or Generals could ever hope to be. Was it due to her standing as Empress, above every law and only answering to him? Or were the remnants of a youth on Jakku stronger than he had been led to believe? He could not tell. All Hux knew was that her harsh intelligence and her nature demanded obedience, from his Generals as well as from him. Her arguments tended to be stringent and clear, her plans thoroughly contemplated. It took the council members barely more than two meetings to see that she was more than a trophy to sit beside him and watch quietly. She was as deadly as any of them.  
Hux had watched her calmly explaining her points, had seen her white knuckles that she tried so hard to hide in the folds of her gowns, had noticed the flash of rage in her eyes, and adjusted his picture of her accordingly. Her make-up, a variant of the old Nabooian fashion, was flawless, and so was her advice on conquering planets without firing a single shot.  
It had become an addicting mix to Hux.  
He did not have illusions, he did not hope for her love. But with a bit of time, he remembered thinking, mutual respect might be an option. With that, he could work.

A hesitant knock interrupted his reminiscing, and it took him a second to gather his thoughts.  
“Yes?”  
The door slid open soundlessly, and, flanked by a servant and a guard, his head architect entered, gaze averted as it was customary for his species. Still, the smile on his face was clearly visible, the beaming pride of a job well done.  
Hux turned around and pried his hands apart, allowing the architect to forego the usual bow with one sharp gesture.  
“Mica. I take it you have good news?” He might have phrased it as a question, but it was no such thing. Had he not finished his work, Mica would not be there. But the Togruta carried himself with the air of a job well done, lowering his holopad to flick it on. “I do, your Majesty. We are done, every last detail is on place.” His fingers tapped the sheer surface before turning the holopad towards Hux. “As you can see, your Majesty, we built these platforms for the Skyflowers to get them closer to the artificial sun. They shift over the day to allow for optimal exposure.”  
He went on in great length about the miniscule changes they had worked on in the past two weeks. Hux demanded perfection, and this was not any different, even if it was not to be his. So he listened, for almost twenty minutes, to problems they had been having, the technologies that went into the artificial sky that was to mirror different weather scenarios and seasons, the feats of engineering. If they had more time, Hux would have been more than interested in it. But the way things were, he smoothly interrupted the Togruta as he was about to start a new topic. “Thank you very much, Mica. Now, would you mind showing it to me?”  
The architect needed another moment to return from his abstract explanations. He turned off the holopad quickly and without hesitation, though, and stretched out his arm. “Of course, your Majesty. If you follow me...” He said more, but Hux tuned him out with ease. He felt the muscles in his back tighten with anticipation as they walked down the long, bright hallways.

He had thought about it for a long time. He ought to make her a present, to show her that he valued her beyond her superficial role. He had gone through what he knew about her, and come up with embarrassingly little. She was loath to sharing anything personal with him, or in his presence. More than once she had interrupted herself when he had entered the room, schooled her face into the carefully crafted neutral mask he had become accustomed to and turned away from whoever she had been talking to. So he had wrung it out of others. Of those she entrusted with her secrets. Out of Zeroes, who had hardly been able to tell him anything beyond her love for the colour green despite being her Personal Assistant, out of her handmaid Neva who had mentioned traditional Nabooian jewellery, and, most surprisingly, out of Phasma. However she had done it, and he was sure it had not been pleasantries, Phasma had gained the the Empress's trust. It had been Phasma who had brought up flowers. It had been Phasma, too, who had brought up privacy. What had been made of it had been his own idea entirely, though.

“Your Majesty, may I present?” Mica had stopped, and so did he when the Togruta raised a hand. “This is it. The new garden, designed and fashioned after your instructions.”  
The gates were fragile, gold spun into intricate swirls to hold opaque glass in place, reaching almost to the high ceiling. Hux allowed his fingers to skim over it, feel the smooth surface. Never before had he seen real glass, only transparisteel. It had cost him more to have the glass made than even the most intricate of the framework. When the gates swung open he thought that it had been worth every credit.  
A path stretched in front of him, paved with beige stone and meandering through planet beds that looked as natural that one could almost forget one was inside the palace. Bright light streamed through the garden, and when Hux looked up he found that the panels displayed a light, sunny day not unlike any other early summer day on the planet.  
“The weather is usually controlled automatically, shifting through a long cycle of weather scenarios. It can, however, be changed manually for events, or depending on your mood. We can even simulate rainfall, snow, storm and so on.” Mica followed him as Hux made his way along the path, taking in the casually arranged bushes and trees, perfect in their imperfection. “The gardens display the fauna of seven different planets, including deserts with cacti and Drystem as well as different sorts of moss and lichen from colder places. Most of it is modelled after temperate climate, though, to allow the cultivation of the long list of plants your Majesty suggested.” He pointed at small patches underneath the light green bushes, where blossoms flowered in a wide variety of colours. Hux watched them for a moment, fascinated. There was nothing a bit of engineering could not achieve, and he was standing next to the living, growing proof of that. Give a man a screwdriver and watch him perform miracles.

He shook his head. It had been years since he had built something with his own two hands, and sometimes the need still itched under his skin, to create from nothing, to make of thin air the way some cultures depicted their gods.  
Creating this, even on a holopad, had felt more satisfying than any trade agreement or negotiation. Almost as good as Starkiller II. And maybe that had just been because he had known who he was doing it for, and that he was trying to pour years of courting into it that they had not had the time for. That it was both, a belated gift as well as a sign of gratitude for her wise council, her grace. There were, of course, other implications in it too, but he did not dare to think about those the same way he would never touch an open wound. There was bitterness that was worth it and bitterness that wasn't, and this clearly belonged to the latter kind.

Mica had gone on with his explanations, leading him further into the garden, and Hux was starting to see how they had incorporated his idea of symmetry. Slowly and almost not noticeable, the bushes grew taller and turned into trees. Mica, who must have watched his face, smiled. “The height increases and then decreases again, your Majesty. Had we taken another path, which leads around the garden in a long curve, we would have ended up on a hill that would have allowed us to see the almost triangular shape. But I assumed you would like to see the roses before...” He trailed off, insecurity seeping into his voice. Hux waved a hand. “You were right, Mica. Please, lead on.” The architect relaxed, nodded once.  
“Now, the roses were more complicated.” He said it as if Hux did not know, as if he had not made secret trade agreements for them. Roses were rare, and demanding, and beautiful. Even on Naboo, they had only had a wild, bastardized version, so he had searched on. “They are rather specific about their needs, the right kind of warmth, the perfect amount of water. We had to create micro-weather for them.” They turned a corner and Hux could hardly suppress the deep breath he had to take. In an open space, an elongated, intricate glasshouse was standing, just as sophisticated as the gates and of similar style. Through the sheer glass, he could see rows and rows of roses, pink, white lilac ones that were only interrupted by small seats ever now and again. Everything about it breathed elegance.  
“The windows are all transparent panels to manipulate sun and rain with more ease, your Majesty. There is a special irrigation system spread evenly throughout the greenhouse, and three gardeners spend day and night caring just for the roses. We decided that nothing could be left to chance with them.” Hux nodded gently, just a raise and fall of his chin. Nothing could be left to chance.

There was no question, he thought, that she did not love him. Never would, with how she perceived herself as a hostage despite ordering as easily as any other queen. She had not cried in his presence. Her pride was to strong for any display of weakness. There were times when he had caught her with glistening eyes or wiping at her face without smudging any of the make-up, a skill in itself already. But as soon as she noticed him, her back was ramrod straight again and her demeanour carefully neutral. She behaved as if she was crawling through a mine field instead of talking to her lawfully wedded husband.  
He had made a decision, when he had brought it up. Had made the decision that nothing would be left to chance, neither her reaction nor her pick. Love had never been part of the plan. He had made it abundantly clear that their marriage was to be one of convenience and had left her to figure out what kind of convenience, and what her options were.

With a few choice taps on his holopad, Mica let the artificial sun climb higher, and Hix watched in wonder as the rose petals unfurled. A heavy, heady perfume filled the air, its sweetness reassuring Hux that he had made the right choice. Oh, she was sweet and heady. But she was also relentless, thorny and demanding.  
Either she would laugh at the waste of water or at the irony of it, and Hux did not care which of both it was as long as he could see her face light up.  
“As you can see, your Majesty, the roses react almost instantly to any kind of change. This is what made this greenhouse necessary, not just aesthetic considerations, although those played a role.” He inclined his head. “We all hope it is in accordance with your tastes. We based everything on your blueprints as far as it was possible and added rather than removed if we had to.”  
Hux stood for a long moment, contemplated the dusky pink rose that he was running his fingertips over. Then he let a wide smile cross his face. “It is very much as I expected it, Mica. Please relay my gratitude to your colleagues.”  
The architect's stance loosened, lost tension Hux had not realized he had been holding in his shoulders. “Thank you very much, your Majesty. Your appreciation will be our greatest honour, your Majesty.”  
Hux gave him a well-measured smile, friendly enough to seem nothing but genuine and benign enough to create loyalty. “Now,” he said and stepped up beside his head architect. “I think it time to present your work to the Empress.”

 

The suns were high up in the sky and bathed the hallways in bright silver light, and Hux, his hands once again folded behind his back, did his best to hide his tension. Just behind him, Phasma chuckled. “Relax, Hux. It will all be fine. Either she loves it she doesn't. It's not within your power to make _that_ decision.” He almost snapped back at her, a harsh answer already on his tongue, when he heard the sharp clacking of shoes. Automatically, he straightened his back and looked up.  
Her gown was intricate, silver embroidery like rain on green ground. As always, her head was held high, allowing the beads of her headdress to cascade down her sides and back. She had chosen silver for her make-up, too, which gave her an otherworldly look.  
She stopped sharply in front of him and inclined her head while her handmaid curtsied. “Your Majesty.” Her tone had not lost any of its edge. The harsh defiance coaxed a smile on his face and he nodded back at her. “My Lady.” He held out his arm. “Would you mind walking with me?”  
She hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow easily, without hesitation. No matter how she felt about him, she trusted him that far. Or maybe she trusted herself. Either way, what did it matter? She strolled down the long halls next to him, quiet while he made superficial remarks about different things and watched her face. She was attentive, her eyes darting left and right, and Hux could see her confusion even through the make-up. He decided to switch the subject, saying, “I hope you had a pleasant morning?” It was an obvious attempt to engage her in a conversation, but it worked. “I did. You seem pale though.” Direct as ever. Hux swallowed before he smiled. “I woke up early.” Long before dawn, in fact. Even at these unreasonable hours, diplomats had tried to call him. He had accepted most of their congratulations over the course of the morning before he had excused himself, too distracted to give them the proper attention. He smiled at her. “I had a long morning.”

They walked on in silence, and her confusion grew the farther they went. It took long minutes until she asked, her voice hushed, “Where are you leading me?” Hux could imagine how she felt, not keen on surprises as she was, as they both were. Still, he only smiled and answered, “You will see in a few moments.” Her fingers tightened around his elbow. Then they turned a corner, and she gasped.  
Hux, despite having seen the gates before, felt similarly overwhelmed. The glass fractured the bright midday light into rainbows which coloured the white floor and walls.  
“What...” She hooked both hands around his arm now, not taking her eyes off the gates. “What is this?” Hux smiled, striding towards the doorway.  
She might have been impressed before, but it was nothing against her reaction when she stepped into the garden and took the view in. Her mouth hung open, not in the least dignified. Neither was the way her fingernails dug into his skin even through the fabric of his uniform. Or her high-pitched tone when she said, “What _is_ this?” She let go of him before he could answer the question, stepping towards the first flower she saw and running her fingers over it. Her face, a neutral mask most of the time, was open and innocent now, betraying how young she really was. She hurried along, from one plant to the next, always touching as if she could not quite believe that she was not dreaming. Her handmaid followed her, and Phasma used their relative privacy to mutter, “A bit extreme, really. When I said plants, I meant something small and potted, not... this.” Hux did not even look at her when he said, “Have I ever been known to do anything in moderation?” He was captivated by a wide smile, and if Phasma said anything else he did not hear it anymore. All the weeks of planning, the secrecy, the stress had been worth it when he heard Rey's wild, uninhibited laugh. She had thrown her head back, leaving her headdress in disarray and Hux with a warm feeling of accomplishment. He stepped up beside her, dismissing the handmaid and Phasma with a casual gesture.

One hand still on a purple blossom, the other clasping her gown tightly, she turned towards him. “What _is_ this?” Hux followed her gaze, took in the shades of green, the play of light and shadow. “The new Imperial Gardens. My gift to you.” Her eyes were wide, not understanding. “I... what?”  
Carefully, gently, he reached out towards her to give her the chance to pull back. She didn't, so Hux took her hand in his and explained, “Today marks the anniversary of our wedding. I know that we did not have the best of beginnings, but I want you to understand that you did nothing but inspire the court and me. The past year must have been... hard for you, but you accepted it with more grace than anyone could have asked for, least of all me. I felt like I should give something back for all the advice, the tact and dignity.” He had prepared the speech, too. Had rehearsed it over and over again, in front of mirrors, in the darkness of the night. “I know that I have taken you away from every familiar place, that you have been thrown into a world where your every move is watched. So I thought that maybe this, a space just for you, might be the right present.”  
Rey looked up at him with wide eyes, squeezing his hand. “I... What can I... There is nothing I can give you in return!” She seemed almost embarrassed to admit it.  
“You don't have to return anything. This is a gift. It does not entail any demands or expectations. All I hope is that you enjoy it, and that you feel more at home in the palace.”

For a long, breathless moment, they just watched each other, seeking for any reaction in the other's face. Rey broke the tense silence with a smile that made her eyes sparkle. “I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you, your--- Armitage.” She said his name slowly, trying it out consciously for the first time. Then she clutched his hand harder. “Thank you for this. It's... bigger than anything I could have imagined.”  
Her praise started to make him uncomfortable, reminding him of everything he had not done. He should have tried to reach out earlier, offer more.  
From now on, he thought, he would do better.  
Hux smiled down at Rey, the Empress, and said, “You are welcome.” After another few heartbeats, he pulled his hand back, straightened his uniform and offered his arm again. “Now, the celebrations out in the streets will last all day, but the official banquet only starts later tonight. Would you mind exploring the gardens with me for a bit longer?”

Rey laughed again, softer this time, as she linked arms with him. And if her fingertips rested on the sensitive skin of his wrist while they walked, they both pretended not to notice.

**Author's Note:**

> It's 4:30 am. Please excuse any typos etc. Point them out and I will correct them


End file.
